


The Lost Tribe, Missing Scene, Stargate Atlantis

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s05e11 The Lost Tribe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:12:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: The one in which Daniel trips off to Atlantis and he and Rodney find a hidden lab.





	The Lost Tribe, Missing Scene, Stargate Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

> I've listed this as SG-1 although I suppose it is technically Atlantis.

“So,” General Jack O'Neill tapped his pen on his desk. “Dr. Jackson?”

Dr. Lam's voice came through the speaker. “Stable condition. He was exposed, yet again,” her voice was crisp and no-nonsense, “to some sort of radiation.”

Jack winced; he'd read the report, of course, but hearing the word 'radiation' aloud still shook him. “And we don't know much about it?”

“The device was destroyed. Well, the part that wasn't taken by the Asgard. I have no way of measuring the amount or type of radiation.”

“You know we need Daniel here in DC to brief us.”

Her voice turned cool. “I still would like to register my protest.”

“I know and if there were any other way, I'd agree with you. But if we've got rogue Asgards running around out there with some kind of wacky device, we need to know everything Dr. Jackson knows. Immediately.” He could make it an order but he was trying like crazy to keep his hands off Landry's command. 

“It's not like he's going to be flying commercial. Private jet provided by Homeland. If I could just beam him here, believe me, I would. Listen, Doc, I know you don't know me but let me assure you that I have had years of taking care of a slightly dented Daniel. I know his moods, and I know how to get him to rest and take his meds. I promise you that if I cannot get him to behave, I'll haul his ass to Walter Reed myself.”

*

If Jack had his way, he'd have taken time off; having Daniel all to himself was a delicious luxury. But duty, as usual, called and he was forced to leave Daniel curled up in bed every morning while he rushed to the Pentagon.

Much as he wanted to, he didn't announce his entrance in the evening; the headaches had been persistent enough that Jack argued about calling Lam. Daniel said she was wary of over-prescribing medication but Jack hated to see Daniel in so much pain.

So he frowned when he found Daniel on the couch, curled up, a wet cold cloth pressed firmly to his forehead. With a sigh, Jack backtracked to the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water before wetting another cloth.

“Here,” he said, nudging Daniel's hand. “Re-hydrate.” When Daniel took the glass, Jack swapped out the cloths. 

“Oh, god,” Daniel moaned when he took a drink; had to force himself not to slug the whole glass. A brain freeze was so not what he needed right now.

“So? Walter Reed?” He asked, trying for casual.

“No, I don't need to go to the hospital. The headaches are getting better, I keep telling you.”

Jack shrugged as he headed for the bedroom, quickly changing into khakis and a T-shirt. He fiddled with his stereo, finding an old album he knew Daniel liked, keeping the volume down low.

He sat on the chaise end of the sectional, fluffing the pillow Daniel had obviously been wrestling. “Come here,” he patted his lap. With a groan, Daniel flopped over, his head on the pillow in Jack's lap. “So,” Jack stroked his hair gently, “I'm thinking I should kill McKay.”

“Not Rodney's fault,” came the muffled reply through the cloth.

“He's strolling around Atlantis with his head intact and you're still in pain two weeks later. Why shouldn't I blame him?” Jack could carry a grudge with the best of them and he'd never forgiven McKay for his willingness to kill Teal'c just to prove that he was right.

“I wanted to go, I found the lab.”

“I still want to kick McKay's ass,” Jack whined.

“Hard to do from a different galaxy.”

“I could call that Ronon feller, you said he was almost as big as Teal'c.” Jack pondered the idea with satisfaction. He leaned down to kiss Daniel's temple. “Feeling better?”

“Down to a dull roar now, thanks.”

“Think you could eat something. I know, I know, but you can't live on jell-o and coffee.” Jack tried to think of something that would go down easy. 

“Your cleaning guy left something in the fridge.” Daniel offered.

“He did? I hope it was something his mom cooked.” Jack eased his way out from under, gently lowering Daniel's head before investigating. “Okay, looks like some of her chicken pot pie. It's really good, ought to be easy on the stomach.” He read and followed the reheating instructions. “About a half hour. And he left some of her biscuits for breakfast tomorrow too. You hit the jackpot.” He'd told Chuck that Daniel was going to be staying for a while and he'd obviously told his mother who owned a great little restaurant out in Virginia.

Daniel's stomach rumbled. “Sounds great.” He sat up gingerly, thrilled when his head opted to stay attached. He looked over when Jack sat beside him. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For causing this whole mess.”

“You didn't cause it. The damned Asgard caused it. Better we know they're out there running around than have them take us unaware sometime down the road. I will always prefer any intel over no intel.”

 

*

 

Dinner had been eaten and the dishwasher was chugging away. Daniel was sprawled on a lounge on the small deck that had sold Jack on the condo. “Here,” Jack nudged a bottle of water into his hand before flopping onto the other seat. 

Daniel squinted over at him. “I bet you had somewhere to be tonight?”

“Are you kidding? Friday night in the big city? I had all kinds of offers but I declined every one of them. Said I had to visit a sick friend.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. I really, really needed this.”

Jack leaned over to kiss him softly. “Always here for you, baby, always.”


End file.
